by Lucas Marcum
Jason checked his map and said, “Southern Lander Way. This is the central north/south corridor. Left here, then right on Thirty-eighth Street.” They stepped onto the broad sidewalk, then froze. To their right, about a hundred meters away, was a throng of several hundred people. They were chanting and waving signs written in the local dialect, with many of them wearing red armbands. There were several people with bullhorns out in front, shouting in the singsong language, and waving their arms. When they did, the crowd would roar.
Elizabeth regarded the crowd for a moment, and then said, “We need to get the fuck out of here. They don’t look happy.”
Jason replied grimly, “Easier said than done. Look.” He gestured to the south end of the street. About twenty-five meters to their south, several large armored vehicles with the logo of the local police painted on them had pulled up in a line, and armored police officers were piling out and forming a line with riot shields pointed up the street. The leaders in the front of the crowd were pointing and yelling, and the crowd’s chants and jeers grew louder in response.
The bullhorn on the police vehicle in the middle began to speak in the singsong language. After a moment it was repeated in Chinese, then again, this time in English.
“THIS IS AN UNAUTHORISED PROTEST. PLEASE DISPERSE. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO APPROACH THE POLICE LINE.” A rock sailed out of the crowd and bounced off the front of one of the armored vehicles.
Turning, Elizabeth looked back down the street they’d just come down. She could see people streaming down it, all wearing the red armband. Many now wore facemasks and were apparently trying to get behind the police line. Many had torn their signs off of their poles and were now carrying the bare metal pipes.
Jason said, shouting to be heard over the crowd, “Head for the police line. These guys aren’t going to care what uniform we’re wearing. It’s a uniform.”
Elizabeth nodded, turned, and started down the street at a rapid walk, with Jason right behind her. As they drew to within a dozen meters of the police lines, a bottle sailed over their heads and burst into a ball of fire on the now formed shield wall. A policeman went down in flames, screaming as the flames roared over him. His comrades rapidly sprayed him with a fire extinguisher, and the hole in the ranks of the shield wall closed. Moments later, several dark tubes emerged from the shield wall.
Elizabeth’s instincts kicked in. Seizing Jason by the uniform collar, she dove for the nearest doorway as the weapons coughed, spitting slow-moving projectiles. The projectiles flew toward the crowd, then detonated with a series of popping noises. The people nearest to them were enveloped in a cloud of yellow gas, and immediately fell to their knees and started vomiting profusely. One of the leaders out front, clearly prepared for this, had donned his mask. He snatched up the gas projectile and hurled it back at the police line.
As it flew past, Elizabeth could feel her gorge rising in her throat, and she tried not to breathe. She pushed Jason further into the doorway and shouted in his ear, “Vomit-gas. Not lethal, but try not to breathe.”
Jason nodded and peered around her, then yanked her collar hard, bringing her to her knees just as he was struck in the face with a half brick. He collapsed bonelessly at Elizabeth’s feet, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. She fell on top of him and pulled him close to her chest to try to protect him. Elizabeth twisted around to try to look behind her.
The police line was holding, but enduring a rain of bricks, fuel bombs, and thrown back vomit-gas canisters. Suddenly there was a buzzing noise, and three quad drones swept low over the crowd, spraying a fine mist. As they did, the crowd howled in pain, and the people under the drones collapsed, screaming and clutching their skin. The drones made a second pass, and again the people fell. The drones wheeled for a third pass, then midflight spun out of control, striking the second floor of the nearby buildings, and falling to the street. The crowd howled in fury and surged forward toward the police lines.
Suddenly the line of police disintegrated as the protestors who had crossed over into the side street crashed into their flank, catching them unaware. The orderly line of police suddenly devolved into a chaotic melee of bats, shields, fists, and rocks. Elizabeth pushed herself and her unconscious comrade back as far as she could into the meager protection of the doorway and watched as a young policeman tripped and became separated from his team, and was rapidly stripped of his equipment and beaten unconscious by a group of enraged rioters. She saw a young woman hit in the teeth with the edge of a riot shield, and she went down senselessly with two police beating her savagely with stunsticks.
Suddenly there was rumbling, and another voice over the public address system speaking rapidly in the local language. There was then a low hum, and policemen and rioters alike screamed and fell to the ground, clawing at their skin, as someone further down the street waved a microwave crowd dispersion beam over the crowd.
Elizabeth could feel the momentary surge of heat as it passed over the doorway she was hiding in, and then it moved on. She breathed a sigh of relief when it passed. Suddenly the relief turned to horror as the door behind her vanished, and she fell backwards into the dark, with arms seizing her. She tried to fight as the arms pulled her and her still unconscious friend into the room. The room went completely dark as the door slid shut, and the locks clicked.
Kicking wildly, Elizabeth tried to free herself without letting go of Jason’s collar. The arms dropped her, and a man spoke in a fluid, melodic language she didn’t understand. Another voice, this one higher, answered him, then a light flared, forcing Elizabeth to squint her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, a massive man with a coal black beard dressed in a flowing thawb was staring down at her. The man spoke again rapidly. From behind his massive bulk stepped a child of about ten. She stepped cautiously around the man, whom Elizabeth assumed was her father, and regarded the UAE soldier with large eyes.
After a moment of staring, the child said in a singsong voice, “Papa says not to be afraid, that you will be safe here.” Her large eyes took in Jason’s bloodied face, and she turned and spoke rapidly to the man. He rumbled something at her, turned, and moved off into the dimly lit room. The sounds of the riot outside were muted, with only occasional shouting and thumping audible through the thick shutters. Sitting up, Elizabeth realized she was in a small shop, lying in the aisle. Around her the shelves rose into the dim light.
The child crouched down and regarded Jason curiously for a moment, then said, “Mama is a doctor. She will tend to your friend.”
Pushing her hair out of her face, Elizabeth said, “Thank you.”
The child turned her attention to Elizabeth and continued to stare at her. After a few moments of intense scrutiny, she said, “You are a soldier? You fight in the war?”
Elizabeth laid a hand on Jason’s chest to make sure he was breathing and replied, “Yes. I’m a soldier. And no, I don’t fight. I’m a nurse. I take care of people.” She shook her head and added, “Well, mostly I don’t fight.”
The child thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen an alien?”
With a tight smile, Elizabeth responded, “Yes, I have. Several times.”
“Were they scary?” The child’s eyes bored into Elizabeth.
“Yes, they were. Very scary.” Elizabeth looked up as the big man came back into the room, with a slender, dark eyed woman dressed in casual, contemporary clothing. On seeing the unconscious officer on the floor, the woman turned and rattled off something rapidly to the man, who nodded silently and moved off into the darkness.
The woman moved up and said to the child, “Aliya. Move back, please.” The child obeyed, scooting backward as the woman knelt by Jason. After a moment she looked up and said, “He’ll live. His jaw may be broken, and he will need dental work, but he will live.” She regarded Elizabeth for a moment, and then said, “Are you hurt, Colonel?”
Elizabeth shook her head silently, then asked, “You’re military?”
With a dark look of amuse
ment, the woman replied, “No. We’re from the colony of Amal-jadid on Andromeda Nine. We saw a lot of those uniforms during the…uprisings.” She spoke rapidly to the man, who nodded again and silently offered a clean cloth. The woman began to gently wipe the unconscious officer’s face. She said after a moment, “You two walked into the wrong part of town. The Mars Firsters aren’t big fans of the UEA, and most of us from the colonies don’t like you too much, either.”
Watching the woman wiping Jason’s face, Elizabeth replied, “We were just trying to get to the airport.”
The woman didn’t look up as she replied, “You’re quite lucky my husband has more heart than brains. Opening the door was very dangerous.”
“We’re very grateful. It was getting bad.” Elizabeth looked toward the front of the shop and flinched as something hit the thick outer shutters. She couldn’t help noticing the thick plassteel curtains that were pulled down, covering the windows and front door. She indicated the shutters, “Is that…”
The woman continued tending to Jason and replied without looking up, “Call it cultural paranoia. Our families come from places on Earth that were prone to violence. Centuries of political, economic, and religious strife have embedded being prepared into us.” She paused to speak to the man again, then resumed, “We thought finally we had a peaceful place on Amal-jadid.”
Elizabeth responded, “What happened?”
The woman shrugged delicately and responded, “The same thing that always happens. Someone wanted our planet and tried to take it.”
“Who tried to take it? The Elai?”
The woman’s eyes flashed at Elizabeth for a moment, bright and hard, before she responded in a hard voice, “No. The UEA needed a starship base. At first it was just a few troops and a little land. As the other colonies tried to make their own ways, the UEA needed more resources, and space for more troops and ships. Eventually they asked for things we couldn’t give, and there was fighting. Our beautiful town was destroyed.” The woman paused, then added in distant tone, “I still remember seeing the mosque burning as we lifted on the last refugee shuttle out.” Her voice snapped back to normal, and she deftly started making a bandage for the unconscious man’s jaw. Her tone was businesslike. “They evacuated us and resettled us as part of the UEA Colonial Resettlement Program, but we never got authorization to go home.” She paused, then continued, “If there’s even a home to go back to. We heard that one day the fighting just…stopped. The UEA and all those uniforms pulled out and left it in ruins, like it had never mattered at all.” She eyed Elizabeth’s ribbons on her uniform, then added in a matter-of-fact tone, “Then months later, the Elai war starts, and here we remain.” She looked down at the now bandaged sailor lying unconscious on the ground in front of her and said without a trace of irony in her voice, “So it goes.”
Aliya said, solemnly, “Insha’ Allah.”
The big man also said in a deep rumble, “Insha’ Allah.”
The woman smiled at the girl, then spoke in the singsong language again. The big man nodded, stooped down and picked up the unconscious naval officer like he was a child, and carried him into the darkness of the rear of the store.
The woman said, “Aliya, take our guest to the living room. I’m going to wash and prepare tea for our guest.”
The child replied, “Yes, Mama.” Elizabeth got unsteadily to her feet. The child gently took her hand and led her toward the back of the store.
Passing through the store and through a door in the back, they entered a small but tidy family home. The child led Elizabeth to a comfortable sofa and gently urged her to sit. With a weary smile, the woman passed through into the kitchen. Momentarily Elizabeth could hear water running. Aliya had sat across from Elizabeth and was staring intently at her. Elizabeth looked around the dimly lit room, seeing pictures of family and a few old prints of city skylines she didn’t recognize.
After a few moments of close scrutiny, the little girl asked, “Did you fly in a starship?”
With a smile, Elizabeth responded, “Yes, I have. Many times.”
The girl replied, “I flew in a starship once. It was very cold and very crowded.” She swung her legs idly for a moment, then asked, “When you saw the aliens, did you talk to them? What did they say?”
“I didn’t talk to them. Mostly we were trying to stay away from them,” Elizabeth responded, then added, “I did talk to one once. He was hurt, and we tried to help him.”
The child nodded wisely. “I was hurt once. I fell off of my bed and scraped my knee. See?” She pulled her robe up, showing a scabbed knee, then dropped the robe. She pointed at the ribbons on Elizabeth’s uniform. “What are those for?”
Elizabeth looked down at her ribbons and replied, “These are for things I’ve done and places I’ve been. It’s so people know.”
“Why?” The child asked.
“Why what?”
“Why do they want to know?”
Elizabeth laughed and responded, “I don’t know. It’s just something the military does. We’ve always done it, I guess.”
Aliya pointed at a ribbon and declared, “I like the purple one. It’s pretty.”
Elizabeth grinned and replied, “Thank you. I like this dark red one best.”
The girl tilted her head curiously and asked, “What’s it for?”
“The red one?”
“No. The purple one.”
“I got it after I got hurt.” Elizabeth gently touched the ribbon. Seeing the girl’s face, she added with a smile, “But I wasn’t hurt very bad.”
The girl considered this, then declared, “You got a ribbon for getting hurt? I get hurt all the time. I could have like…five of those.” She regarded the ribbons for a moment longer, then asked, “How did you get hurt?”
Elizabeth responded simply, “I fell out of an airplane and hurt my side and my leg.”
“An airplane? That’s pretty far. Did it hurt?”
“Yes, but I had a good friend fix me up after, so I was ok.” She shook her head, remembering those long few days on Desolation.
The little girl pointed at her ribbons again. “The gold one is pretty, too. What’s it for?”
Elizabeth looked down at her ribbons, then back at the large eyes of the child, and answered quietly, “Bravery.”
“Aliya,” the woman’s sharp tone came from the kitchen door. The girl looked at her mother, who stood with a stern expression on her face. “What did I tell you about pestering adults? Go wash your hands, then join us for tea.”
“Yes, Mama.” The little girl jumped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. The woman disappeared after her, then reappeared with a tray holding a teapot and several tiny cups. She carefully set it down, and then sat across from Elizabeth.
She regarded Elizabeth intently for a moment. Her sharp eyes flickered to Elizabeth’s ribbons, and she asked, “Bravery?”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands and replied, “So they said.” She looked back up and met the woman’s eyes.
After a few seconds the woman smiled slightly and gestured to herself. “I must apologize. I’ve failed to introduce my family. I am Fatima al-Tamimi. My husband is Hamid ibn Abdullah. You have already met our rather precocious daughter, Aliya. Welcome to our home.” She gestured at the teapot. “May I offer you tea and dates? I’m afraid we don’t have much to offer to eat, as we haven’t been able to get to the store with the protests recently.”
Elizabeth accepted the offered beverage, pausing to admire the fine porcelain teacup. “I’m Elizabeth, and thank you. This teacup. It’s lovely.”
Fatima nodded, and responded, “It was one of the very few things we managed to take when we left Amal-jadid.” The big man came back into the room and spoke for a moment in Arabic. Fatima nodded and replied, then turned to Elizabeth. “He says your friend is still unconscious, but breathing easily. As soon as the streets are clear, we will call an ambulance.” The man spoke again. Fatima nodded again. “He also says there’s a dust s
torm coming.”
Elizabeth nodded and asked, “May I call my boss and tell him what happened?”
The woman nodded graciously. Elizabeth pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. There was a large crack running down it. She sighed and put it back in her pocket. “Broken.”
With a slight smile, Fatima replied, “I’d let you use ours, but the storms cut us off from the com satellites. We can call inside the city, but that’s all.”
Raising her eyebrows, Elizabeth asked, “No cable connections?”
The woman laughed. “No. This is an old city. It was ‘ultramodern’ back in the 2100s, so they didn’t feel the need to lay cable, instead relying on wireless connections to the satellite systems. As the city aged and the population grew poorer, the infrastructure never got upgraded, so when the storms come, we lose our connection. It’s not so bad. We read a lot of books, play games, and watch old movies.” She paused, then added, “It’s less helpful at work, but that’s another story.”
“What do you do?”
With a tight smile, the woman replied, “I’m a doctor. I work at Hellas General Hospital.” The child emerged from the kitchen and sat next to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled down at her and said to Fatima, “I’m in healthcare, too. I’m a nurse.”
“Oh? What’s your specialty?” While she spoke, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to Aliya. “It’s hot, be careful.”
Elizabeth replied, “I’m on an aeromedical evacuation team. Well. I guess I was on an evac team. I’m on a desk now over in Huxley City.”
“Working for the big project for the Fleet, I assume?”
“Yes. How did you know?” Elizabeth tried and failed to hide her surprise.
“It’s not a secret. The UEA has been aggressively recruiting people of all specialties, and I’ve been approached several times to come join their team.” She eyed Elizabeth critically. “They aren’t forthcoming with details, however. I hesitate to commit to anything that I don’t know the end goal of.” She paused and added, “It would also remove our application to go back to Andromeda Nine, as you can’t hold a UEA position and apply for colonial migration.”